by Alyssa Troy
i shuffle through relics
from the wreckage of
my adolescent archives
and resurrect an album
one month’s allowance paid for
that hosts images of models
bearing no resemblance to my
pudgy, pear shaped body
i wish cutting up the pages
could have killed their allure
i followed every diet
the magazines possessed
to see my face reflected
on its laminated skins
to no avail i am still
the same trauma-ridden
teenager screaming from
the stomach of a woman
who watches herself walk
past any mirroring surface
i assume this is why
i only drink diet soda
About the Author:
Alyssa Troy is an English teacher in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. She received her B.A. from Rider University and has an M. Ed. from both Cabrini and Eastern University. Her poems are published or forthcoming in Blue Unicorn, Cool Beans Lit, In Parentheses, Eclectica, 300 Days of Sun, The Road Not Taken as well as other journals and magazines. She is the author of Transfiguration (2020).